Today marks 90 days of walking, and I am so grateful to have made it this far. Initially, I set out to do this walking practice for three months and three months only. I was not expecting to be so profoundly changed for deciding to walk every single day. I've learned so much about myself, the world, my feelings, and my needs through each step. Today will not be my last day of walking—I will continue and keep this promise to myself.
Not stopping reminds me of the beautiful power of choice and my ability to stick with something sacred, special, and important to me. I've learned that walking is what I make it. It's an invitation to go gently, as Libby DeLana says. I don't rush when I walk. I'm present. I'm open. I'm available to listen to myself wholeheartedly. I didn't realize until about 30 days in that I was not truly hearing myself. I'd gotten so accustomed to moving fast that when I slowed down and turned inward, there were so many things I was missing, wanting, needing, and remembering.
Over the last 90 days, I've noted how the simple act of moving my body has shaped me. I've walked rain or shine—no excuses. If it's cold, I bundle up. If it's raining, I grab my raincoat. If there's snow, I put on my boots. Things that felt complicated before now feel simple. Just go! Just do the thing. And, I do.
My self-belief and self-trust have shown me that I am on the right path in this life, even when I feel like I'm lost. Today, on day 90, I feel more clear than I've ever felt. And when the fog of life shows up again, as it will, I will walk through it because now I know for sure that I can. Inner clarity no longer feels elusive. Instead, it feels attainable.
I wanted to share some of my top lessons and reflections with you over the past three months. And, if you feel called, I'd like to invite you to create your promise to self—be it walking or something else—that you'll stick with without apology, second-guessing, or excuses.
Lessons and Reflections from Walking:
Go when you don't want to, you will be grateful you did when you get home.
Dress for the occasion, rain or shine. I have a newfound love of hats and silly socks.
Look up more—you never know what you'll see.
Breathe deeply, slowly, and mindfully.
When you feel yourself rushing to get the walk done, slow down—literally.
Cry. Do not fight the tears. You won't win. Just let them flow.
Smile and nod to the folks you see. It will make your day.
Take pictures of the things that bring you joy.
Enjoy the silence.
Each step counts.
It doesn't matter how far you go or how long you're out. Just show up.
You don't have to walk with people if you don't want to.
You will want to quit some days, and that's okay. Think about it and then walk anyway.
Don't just look past things. Look at them. Your appreciation for the world will deepen.
If you get bored, find a new path to walk down.
Boredom will happen. Get creative.
You have a choice.
You're worthy of keeping your word to yourself.
Nature is so damn cool.
Walking can be a moving meditation if you let it.
To walk is to pay attention. To pay attention is to see things clearly for what they are—or at least—try to.
So, my friends, as 2021 comes to a close. What promises to yourself do you intend to make and keep? Leave a comment or email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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Want to walk? Join Libby and me on Instagram at @thismorningwalk and walk into 2022 with us.